


Gentle Are His Hands

by perpetual_motion



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Massage, Mild Sexual Content, They are so in love, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 17:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetual_motion/pseuds/perpetual_motion
Summary: Jensen is exhausted. It’s been a physically draining day to say the least.Based on thisphotoop





	Gentle Are His Hands

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone i saw that photo/story and immediately had the inspiration to write this. im so fucking soft for them!! i recommend listening to classical music while reading this bc that's what i was listening to while writing this.
> 
> please enjoy :)

Jensen is exhausted. It’s been a physically draining day to say the least.

He sinks heavily into the couch as soon as he gets home, not bothering to call out for Misha, who is probably in their bedroom waiting for Jensen to come to bed.

Jensen stretches out on the couch, pulling his muscles taut and then releasing. He groans as he hears his joints popping and his back cracking.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. He just stares up at the ceiling until a familiar pair of blue eyes appear in his line of sight. The gaze is soft. Jensen lets his eyes fall closed as Misha leans down to press a lingering kiss to his tired mouth.

Misha then urges Jensen to sit up a bit. Jensen whines but moves to allow Misha to sit on the couch. He lays his head in his lap, perfectly pillowed by his thigh. His eyes still closed, Jensen feels Misha’s warms hands gently carding through his hair. Immediately he relaxes, feeling tingles start at his scalp and travel down his spine and arms.

“Long day?” Misha asks softly in that voice that always lulls Jensen to sleep.

“So long. You know I love my job but I am definitely getting too old for this shit,” Jensen says, voice rough with exhaustion. He cracks one eye open. “No offense, old man.”

Jensen smirks as Misha briefly stops his ministrations and rolls his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to bed as soon as you got home?” Misha asks, resuming the movement of his hands.

“Didn’t wanna wake you,” Jensen answers.

“I was awake.”

“Still,” Jensen says into a yawn.

“Alright, c’mon. Time for bed, love,” Misha says, nudging Jensen’s shoulders up, encouraging him to get off the couch. Misha pushes off the couch and Jensen flops back down indignantly in his absence.

“Aw, but I just got comfortable,” Jensen complains.

“And we’ll get you comfortable again in bed, okay?” Misha promises. He holds out his hand. 

Jensen looks at his hand, then back at Misha, and finally back at his hand before snatching it. Misha’s grip is strong as he pulls him up. Jensen’s sore body laments at the exertion. 

Misha leads him down the short hallway to their bedroom overlooking Vancouver. They both quickly strip down into their underwear as they usually do for bed. Misha pads off to the bathroom as Jensen wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling window and gazes out fondly, ignoring the pain in his feet.

The sun has long been set and the lights of the city shine beautifully below. He’s going to miss this view when the show is over. They haven’t talked about it, but Jensen is already planning to take a long vacation with him here every year on their anniversary. Danneel has already approved it and he knows Vicki will too.

Jensen is lost in thought and startles when Misha snakes his arms around Jensen’s waist, hooking his head over his shoulder. Misha kisses his neck softly, and Jensen turns his head to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. Then Misha turns Jensen’s body and pulls him into a tight embrace, never breaking their kiss.

It feels like it lasts forever. The gentle push of Misha’s rough lips on his, the firm press of his body, the sound of sweet classical music coming from the direction of their bed.

Jensen pulls away, putting only a few inches of distance between them.

“Classical music? Really, Mish?” Jensen teases.

“You say that as if the last time I put this playlist on, you didn’t sleep have the best sleep of your life,” Misha retorts, smiling through it.

“Touché.”

Then Misha guides him over to their bed, his hand on the small of his back, and Jensen suddenly realizes what’s happening. There’s several large towels layered on top of their bedspread. Jensen spots his favorite oil blend on Misha’s bedside table next to a bowl of water and lets out an involuntary giddy noise. Misha chuckles rubbing slow circles into his lower back.

“Lay down, cowboy,” Misha instructs, and Jensen happily complies, plopping down heavily and making the bed creak slightly under his weight.

“On your stomach.” Jensen turns on his stomach. “You’re so good for me.”

The bed dips as Misha leans forward to place a small kiss on Jensen’s aching shoulder. Jensen sighs into the mattress, pulling one of his pillows under his head. The music quiets as one song ends and another begins.

Jensen’s eyes slip closed as Misha straddles his hips just below his ass. He worries fleetingly about Misha’s hip but all apprehensions quickly melt away as Jensen’s sense are filled with the scent of peppermint and lavender, and the sound of a piano and a violin playing a sweet melody. Jensen recognizes the tune.

“_[Clair de Lune](https://youtu.be/SKd0VII-l3A)_,” Jensen sighs, Misha’s oiled hands are on him, thumbs pressing and circling into the curve of his back.

“Do you remember when we listened to this together the first time?” Misha asks, sliding his hands up Jensen’s spine.

“You asked me to dance in the middle of a park square,” Jensen replies.

“That’s right,” Misha says softly, squeezing soothingly on his shoulders. “You took my hand, I lead you under a streetlamp, and it began snowing. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you. You looked so beautiful that night.”

“That was the night you told me you loved me,” Jensen recalls, eyes closed, relaxing even more with every pass of Misha’s large hands.

“You said it back.”

“I did.”

The song changes to something Jensen doesn’t know but it’s equally as tranquil. They go on like this for what feels like a blissful eternity but is only about twenty minutes in reality. Misha works out every kink in his body. Gentle and firm and grounding, Jensen feels him all over. His back, his arms, his thighs, even his feet. His muscle loosen slowly as he slips into a peaceful state of nearly asleep. His heart swells in his chest as Misha leans forward again, kissing a trail across his left shoulder until his lips meet Jensen’s.

“Flip over,” Misha whispers, and shifts his weight onto one knee to allow Jensen to move. Jensen wonders if Misha is going to massage his front now but the thought fizzles out when Misha kisses his neck and grinds his hips into Jensen’s.

Jensen gasps out a moan and reaches up to push Misha’s boxer briefs down.

“Slow down, sweetheart. There’s no rush,” Misha murmurs, catching Jensen’s gaze. His eyes are always so reassuring. Jensen nods and settles his hands on Misha’s lower back as a sweet oboe melody plays on the speaker.

Misha kisses him and grinds on him until they’re both straining in their underwear. He relieves them of their fabric confines and takes them both in his hand. The smells of sex and essential oils fill Jensen’s nose as Misha’s warm and thick cock press heavily against his own.

“Mish,” Jensen moans quietly, and Misha silences him with a firm kiss.

It’s not long before Jensen comes. Misha follows soon after with Jensen’s name on his lips.

“I love you,” Jensen pants as Misha grinds slowly against his pelvis, working through the last of his orgasm.

Misha sits up and lays his clean hand on Jensen’s cheek. Jensen leans into the touch and kisses his palm.

“I love you more,” he says cheekily, earning a glare from Jensen.

“Impossible,” Jensen replies.

“Uh huh,” Misha says, and then he’s climbing off the bed and pulling one of the towels from under Jensen. He dips it in the bowl of water and uses it to clean his hand and Jensen’s stomach. Then Misha gathers up the rest of the towels and throws them on the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

Jensen loves this part of living together. The feeling of Misha’s arms around him or his arms around Misha is one of his life’s greatest comforts. Misha faces him and kisses him, hand on his chin. He pulls away and rubs a thumb across Jensen’s bottom lip.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” Misha asks.

“Big,” Jensen replies, and Misha turns away from him, settling back against Jensen’s body.

“Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, Mish.”

The sound of a violin and Misha’s breathing carries him to sleep.


End file.
